John: Be The Culturally Insensitive One
by ilovethesoundofviolins
Summary: Things are different now. Karkat isn't going to be culled if he doesn't do this right. John just wants Karkat to feel good, and relax a little bit, and find as much pleasure in this experience as he does.


**Author's Note: **In the fics that I've read about these two so far, there usually just so happens to be a bucket for Karkat to use right in the nick of time.  
So this is me speculating what might happen if he didn't quite make it in time. lol This is terrible and I'm not sure where it came from and I apologize.

* * *

Up until this point, Karkat has always timed it right.

He and John are matesprites now, as far as Karkat's quadrants go. They pretty much have been ever since they finally met in person, on the meteor. John says that they just couldn't help it. And Karkat agrees. John calls them 'boyfriends,' but that word means nothing to him. He refuses to use it. All he knows is that he's flushed, and he cares about John very much.

Somehow they've figured out a way to be intimate with each other. In dark, abandoned rooms on the meteor, they stumble through awkward firsts and explanations of each other's alien junk to each other. So far they've made out a lot, all teeth and tongues and panting breaths, and they've given each other hand jobs.

Prior to this, Karkat always ran out of the room right when things were getting too hot and heavy. Karkat would groan, detach himself from John's body, and dart to wherever he'd stashed his bucket, releasing himself into it before John could see him come. John always listened to him from the next room over, or from a few yards over, listened to him cursing profusely; listened to the fluids slosh and pang against the metal. And John wished a tiny little bit, in the back of his mind, that he could see it. That Karkat would let him see it.

It was always something that Karkat seemed so embarrassed about.

John _kinda_ understands the reason why, though. In Alternian culture, as far as John can tell, sex wasn't something that you used to engage in for pleasure, like the humans did. Yes it did feel nice, but reproduction with another troll was more of something you_had _to do, to survive.

But things are different now. Karkat isn't going to be culled if he doesn't do this right. And he isn't going to have to worry about the "mutated color," as he puts it, of his genetic material, either. He's safe here. John just wants Karkat to feel _good,_ and _relax _a little bit, and find as much pleasure in this experience as he does.

This time John is naked, on his knees, and giving Karkat him a hand job that has gradually escalated to blow job. Although he's having trouble keeping his mouth on the bulge since it moves so much, John is giving it tender, teasing little licks here and there as he wrings his hand around it, and Karkat is in pure, tortured bliss.

Karkat bangs the back of his head against the wall and feels his knees starting to go weak as John continues to quickly glide his hand back and forth over his stiffening bulge. He feels heat prickling in his gut and he can feel his whole body starting to tremble. Fuck, he needs John to pull back soon, or stop using his mouth soon, or else—or else—

"John—"

Karkat's voice is strangled. John smiles and licks the very tip of Karkat's bulge in response to hearing his name. In the back of his mind he knows why Karkat is trying to get his attention, but he doesn't want to stop. Even further back in his mind he knows that_Karkat_ doesn't want him to stop, but the troll is always trying to be so reserved about this. John just wants him to let go.

"John, I will _literally _throw you off this meteor and not regret it once if you ma-ake me—oh god, _fuck," _Karkat spews.

"Calm down, Karkat," John says through his grin, licking another stripe up the bulge with his too-pink, too-soft, too-wet tongue. Karkat shudders needily and John pulls back, staring up at Karkat's trembling form above him. "I already told you, I don't mind!" he adds.

"Urrgh, you—jesus—" Karkat fists his hands through John's hair, gripping even tighter than before, and it hurts, but John likes it. "Trust me, you're gonna mind, you're gonna mind—"

"Shhhhh."

John takes more than half of Karkat's bulge into his mouth, working his tongue against the ridged underside, slick and slow but consistent, making Karkat lose control of his thinkpan.

"John—" Karkat attempts, flustered, "John, you don't understand, I n-need to—"

John opens his mouth and lets Karkat slip from him, continuing to twist his hand up and down the base of the bulge, edging it on, keeping it in place.

"Just let go," John says quietly through his smile, looking up at Karkat, and he doesn't ever _mean _to sound as sexy as he does, but when he talks like that it makes Karkat furious with lust.

All of a sudden John covers Karkat's entire bulge with his impossibly soft, hot mouth again, taking it in in one fell swoop all the way to the back of his throat, and once he moves his tongue again Karkat just can't take it anymore. He yelps and yanks John's hair as hard as he can, and his bone bulge pulses and then red fluid is spilling and flicking and _pouring _out from the tip, uncontrollably.

John hacks as his mouth and throat are suddenly sprayed at by Karkat's genetic liquid, and the red fluid drips from his open mouth as he lets the bulge fall away and slightly pulls back. John's hands loosely hold Karkat's hips and Karkat keeps John's face close to his crotch as he rides out the waves of his orgasm. Karkat's nails dig into John's scalp and John watches in lustblown amazement as Karkat's bulge spurts thick streams of fluid all over the place.

Karkat's hips rock as the red liquid drips down his own ashen gray thighs, as the bulge flicks itself about and sputters fluid all over John's body too. It spills all over John's pale legs, pooling warm on his skin, dripping to the floor. It splatters against his cheeks, neck, arms, chest, and waist. He feels like he's just showered in it, warm, red and dampening his hair, slicking down him, streaming down each of his ribs.

John tries to remember how to make his lungs do that breathing thing as Karkat finishes and his knees give and he sinks, his rough back sliding down against the wall until he smacks down onto the floor, his knees splayed open and spent bulge slinking back into its sheath.

Karkat opens his huge, dark eyes wide, and he stares at John in horror.

John is covered in a sea of his genetic fluid.

He's never _seen _anything so inconceivable and sordid and _ghastly _in his entire life.

John has never seen Karkat look so terrified, but meanwhile,

He himself feels _so_ turned on.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, John," Karkat panics, smacking himself in the forehead and dragging his nubby claws hatefully down his face. He shakes his head frantically, brows knitted together in frustration, his eyes stuck on the slew of red dripping down John's smooth body. It was just such a _waste_, and such a filthy, filthy thing to do all over someone else, and, and— "I'm so, so sorry—"

"No, it's—" John glances down and drags his two of his fingers around in the fluid on his thigh, making a pattern with it, smearing it into his skin. He exhales and chuckles a bit and smiles. "It's okay."

"Shut the fuck up, no it's not," Karkat groans, staring at John's tucked head, wishing this blithering idiot would just _make eye contact with him_ and _accept his apology_. "I can't believe that I just…_holy shit, _John what are you…g-uhh…"

Karkat becomes immediately distracted by the way that John brings his finger to his red lips and drags his fluid-swathed finger across them. Now his too-bright blue eyes are back on Karkat's, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively in a fucking doofus way that is just so _John_. His tongue flicks out and swipes the beads of fluid from his lips, and then goes as far to lick his fingers completely clean, and Karkat lets out a really, really embarrassing groan from the back of his throat.

He's going to pass out.

John is _smiling _at him.

He just swallowed Karkat's genetic material, down his terrible, pink, human protein chute, and he just _liked it._

"Huh, it tastes weird," John says now, thoughtfully. "Not how I was expecting it to. But it tastes kinda good too! Like—" he licks his lips again slowly, "—almond milk."

Karkat can't even look at him.

"I can't even look at you," he grunts, although his startled eyes are still very much fixated on the boy in front of him, and he feels like he can't breathe.

"I never knew that this was something I found so hot," John reveals with excitement in his voice. He gazes down at himself, still reveling in the fact the silky fluid is covering him entirely. He exhales heavily, pleased and sated. "You came _so much, _Karkat, god."

"Fuck you," Karkat says, and his body is completely swept over in a dusty red blush from head to foot. He's still slightly trembling out of embarrassment.

"So this is why you guys use buckets, huh?" John says curiously.

"If you tell anyone about this," Karkat freaks out. "If you tell any of them that I used you as a human—as a h-human—uuurgff—"

"A human bucket?" John finishes with a smile.

"Please go get yourself cleaned up for god's sake, John, you sick fuck." His eyes are frantic. "I feel really bad and I can't handle looking at you, or your stupid, moronic, culturally insensitive face."

John laughs a little stands up as Karkat wrenches his eyes shut, wishing that he could just disappear. When he opens them again he's staring at John's shins, and he realizes that his mess has spilled all over the _floor_ too, and he is going to fucking _die_ of humiliation.

"Come on, get up," John encourages, still smiling. "It is fine. _I _am fine. I don't want to beat yourself up about this, okay?"

John offers Karkat his hands. Karkat sighs and takes them, reluctantly. John pulls the troll to his feet, and Karkat won't look at him, his eyes still too distracted by the awful mess all around them, but John doesn't care. He brings Karkat's dry, gray, compact body into his arms, wrapping his hands around his bony hips, hugging him close. Karkat tries to jerk away but John holds onto him tight, smothering him with his soft, warm, ridiculous human skin, smooshing the genetic fluid all over _both _of their bodies and making Karkat squirm.

Karkat groans, torn between loving the way that John feels when he's so close and _hating it _because oh god,oh god,_ oh god—_

"I like your milk-tasting body fluid, Karkat," John says lowly in his ear, and Karkat can just _feel _the smile in his voice as his breath tickles his sensitive skin. "When you come all over me like that, it really turns me on."

John pulls back and suddenly kisses him open-mouthed, and the second Karkat tastes himself, sharp and bitter and acidic on John's lips and tongue, he actually does it.

He actually passes out right there in John's arms.

And John just holds onto him and smiles to himself.


End file.
